Night in Harlem
by WriterfromWarDrobe
Summary: "Sparkling lights, crystal dinnerware, couples dancing to a slow Blues tune - Harlem was alive this night." Audrey/Sweet fluff. One-shot.


**~Night in Harlem~**

Sparkling lights, crystal dinnerware, couples dancing to a slow Blues tune – Harlem was alive this night. Dr. Joshua Sweet felt restricted in his double-breasted suit and was growing uncomfortably warm. It seemed strange to recall that only a few minutes ago he had been complaining about the New York snow squall and how he had left 80 degree weather in Arizona. He had been invited to this affair because of his reputation as an African and Native American doctor, not because he knew anyone there.

He thought of sneaking off for a short respite outside – or perhaps leaving altogether; who would notice? And that was when he thought he saw a familiar face on the opposite side of the ballroom. He carefully moved his enormous bulk around the dancers and clusters of gossipers to where the short female stood. Before he could speak, or be completely sure it was her, she spied him, grinned, and doubled her fists.

"Two for flinching," she joked, pommeling him softly in the arm.

"Audrey, you haven't changed a bit," Sweet commented, competing in the mock battle.

Finally, he put his hands up to signal defeat, then gave her a long look. Her thick hair that once tumbled carelessly on her shoulders was chopped off just below her ears and curled at the front. Instead of the overalls she had worn when they had traveled to Atlantis ten years earlier, she had donned a straight, black – though flashy – flapper dress, with two long strands of white beads. The only thing that truly had not changed about her appearance was the crystal on its plain cord about her neck.

"You haven't changed either," Audrey returned, bringing Sweet's attention back to her face.

"I should be an old man by now," he said, fingering his own crystal that he had had fashioned as a pin on his tie. "They seem to have prolonged our lives somehow."

" _Si_ ," Audrey sighed. "Hard to believe how long it's been since we left Milo."

Sweet sensed the memory of their adventure was somehow upsetting the young woman. "May I get you some punch?" he quickly offered. "By the way, what are you doing here?" he added, not giving her a chance to answer his first question.

"A friend of mine invited me, but because of the snow she wasn't able to come. I feel very awkward. I don't know anyone."

Sweet handed Audrey a punch cup. "Same here. I'm really glad I found you."

Audrey nodded in agreement as she drank. "I needed a cold drink," she said, bringing the cup away from her lips. "It's so hot in here."

"Took the words out of my mouth. Let's step outside a moment."

Audrey's face lit up. Despite the glamour of the gown, Sweet knew she was still the tomboy mechanic who cared little for social events. She eagerly looked for a door that led to the snow-covered terrace.

Outside, the chill was welcomed and the snow was falling drowsily. Sweet and Audrey stood on the center of the open porch, somewhat sheltered by the building though snow still landed on their clothes and in the young woman's hair.

"We won't stay out long," Sweet informed wisely, taking note of Audrey's bare arms. "So, how have things been for you all these years?"

"Fine, I guess." She rubbed at the crystal. "I stayed on with Ford a while, until…this happened. People start to look at you funny when you don't age."

Sweet stared hard at the girl, watching how the crystal chandeliers cast rainbows through the windows onto her bob. "You look like you've aged to me."

"A moment ago you said I hadn't changed a bit!" Audrey pouted, her lower lip sticking out.

"You have changed…" Sweet frowned, for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words. At his age, remaining young was a gift of mercy; for only a teenager, it meant never being seen as a competent adult – though he was certain no one had considered Audrey underqualified. "Don't let her age fool you," their employer, Mr. Whitmore, had said to one doubter who had scoffed at the idea of having an eighteen-year-old mechanic on board a submarine.

"Do people notice that about you?"

Sweet looked up, her question drawing him back. "Maybe some have. Now that you mention it, I do recall a few strange looks when I start talking about my Rough Rider days. You can see the gears rolling in their heads, calculating. Frankly, I've given up on my age. I don't feel old anyway."

Audrey suddenly yanked off the Atlantian necklace and prepared to hurl it out into the snow drifts.

"Stop!" Sweet caught hold of her wrist. "What's the matter with you?"

Tears poured out the young woman's eyes. He had not seen her show such emotion since after they had left Atlantis. She had loved it there – they both had.

"I am tired of being alone! All I have done the past ten years is watch everyone get older. Someday I will watch them die, and everyone will want to know how come I never grew up! I am cursed!"

"I wouldn't call it a curse…" Sweet began.

"You meet people, but how long will the friendship last? The girl I was supposed to be with tonight – she's nineteen. She is such a child; she thinks we are close in age."

The doctor released her hand and watched as she slowly brought the crystal up to her face for inspection. She gently traced its edges with her fingers, and Sweet thought it might be best if he changed the subject.

"Sounds like some lively jazz is playing now. Should you like to go inside and dance?"

Audrey looked up in surprise. "I remember what happened the last time you danced with me on the way to Atlantis, Mr. Two-Left-Feet! You tripped and hit Vinny while he was holding a lighted match, and he lit a fuse!"

"I don't remember that, but I do tend to go out with a bang!" Sweet chuckled. After he said that, the memories came rushing back. First, it was the angry face of Vinny from behind black gunpowder and oregano. Then, it was the dance with Audrey – they had been swinging crazily to the radio tunes Parker had turned on. The Hispanic girl's face had been filled with so much joy, Sweet had never wanted the moment to end. However, shortly after that day, he had regretted his feelings of bliss when he had been with her.

"I like wrestling better than dancing anyway," Audrey muttered. "There's a boxing match going on across town tonight. I wish I were there, though their champ – my sister beat him in one round at a match in Michigan."

"Then let's get out of this joint, Aud', and go there."

The mechanic blinked and grinned. "I would love that."

Her face was as excited as it had been that day they had danced, and Sweet fought off the impulse to kiss her. "You should get your coat," he said instead.

"Haven't got one," she chirped back, retying the cord around her neck. "But it's not so cold with you. You seem to have brought the Arizona heat with you." She turned to descend the snow-covered steps. "I wish it were just you and me all the time."

Sweet joined her at the top of the steps. "Why's that, Audrey?" he asked, thinking he could not have heard her correctly.

"I don't feel alone with you," she answered simply as they began into the white-coated Harlem night.


End file.
